Arithmancy
by Laurus Nobilis
Summary: Sometimes, knowing the right answer isn't all there is to it. [Harry Potter and Card Captor Sakura]


**Disclaimer:** Card Captor Sakura belongs to CLAMP. Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling.

**Author's note:** Written for the community "crossovers100" at LiveJournal.

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**Arithmancy**

It was supposed to be a relatively easy exercise. They had a given date and a given time, and they had to use those numbers to predict the weather. This first homework was just revision; it shouldn't give them too much trouble. After all, as fourth-years, they had already studied Arithmancy for a year. And yet, Clow had spent at least half an hour sitting at a desk in the library and staring furiously at the parchment, as if he expected the solution to come on its own.

Then again, that was part of the problem. It _had_ come on its own. He just didn't know how to get there in the way he was expected to. The chart he had come up with didn't seem to make sense. To make it even worse, the books on Arithmancy and Numerology weren't helping at all. They were full of neverending instructions, and their examples included charts in all kinds of complex shapes, but he couldn't find anything useful for that particular case. Beside him, Uric was mumbling to himself as he worked, scribbling numbers with enviable confidence.

After one last, desperate look at his work, Clow groaned and covered his face with his hands.

"This can't be right," he muttered. "My chart says it will be sunny, but I _know_ it's going to rain!"

"Yes," Uric replied as he put down his quill. "The answer is rain."

"I hate this subject," Clow sighed, letting his head sink into his crossed arms. He was probably wrinkling the parchment, but he didn't care.

"Then why are you taking it again?" his friend asked.

"Because Oldridge wants me to. She says I have 'a gift that should not be wasted' or something like that," he said, grimacing at the thought of his Head of House's stern look. "Besides, she was angry enough when she found out I had dropped Divination."

"Well," Uric pointed out carefully, "you never gave her a good reason."

Frowning, Clow turned his head to the side a little so he could look up at him.

"What did you want me to tell her?" he said. "That I can't learn anything else from that teacher?"

"It would be the truth."

"I have enough trouble as is, Uric," he said quietly. "I don't want people to start thinking that I believe I'm better than the teachers."

"But you are," the other boy replied. "At least in Divination."

Sometimes, Clow wondered how did his friend manage to remain so distant from reality. Everything was simple for Uric; in his eyes, the world was a happy place where people were nice and things made sense. He obviously didn't have any idea of how the other students would react if they heard such a thing. After all, he didn't even seem to care about his own classmates, who laughed behind his back at his eccentricities – if he noticed them at all.

It must have been nice to live in such a bubble, Clow thought, but he had never had any chance to try it. Reality had hit him on the face when he was still too small to fight back. He sighed and straightened himself up.

"Even if it's true, I can't _say_ it," he told him. "Especially when I can't even finish my homework."

"It can't be that bad. You know the answer."

"Yes, but I don't know how to get there. It will look as if I just guessed," he said, glaring at the parchment again. "This is not what I'm meant to do."

"Arithmancy?"

"Western magic."

"You say that every week, Clow," his friend sighed. "And you say the same about what you learned in China..."

"I know," he answered, and he rested his head on his hands. "But I really feel that way, sometimes. As if I should do something else... something different."

Uric gave him a sympathetic look.

"Do you want me to help with that?" he asked.

"Please," Clow said, hopeful. The other boy took the crumpled parchment and read it carefully, muttering things to himself as he did so. After a few minutes, he stopped twirling his quill between his fingers. He turned to his friend, beaming.

"I think I found your mistake," he told him. "Look, the numbers are in the wrong order."

Clow stared at the parchment, then at him. Uric took pity on him and answered his question before he could embarrass himself asking it.

"You have to make the calculations and build the chart at the same time, so you make sure that the numbers are taking the proper shape. Otherwise it will never be in order."

For a moment, Clow's blank look remained as it was. Then it slowly turned into a sheepish grin.

"Can we just start over?"

This time it was Uric who buried his face on his arms.


End file.
